Boundless
by Spike Daft
Summary: The Fellowship of three must endure the test of friendship, or the ties that bind them will be severed. Angst, naturally. FINISHED.
1. Where the Willow Wanders

****

Author's Note: There have been so many wonderful stories in the LotR section as of late that I felt I must join in the fun. It seems as though we have formed our own Fellowship! 

Nevertheless, this is my first LotR fic, and will be installed in parts whenever I can escape to write them. It takes place after the death of Boromir and before the reunion of the Seven, and obviously strays a bit from the book- but that's what being a fan fiction author's all about! 

I apologise for any inaccuracies in the text; yes, I have read the books but no, my memory is not superhuman and nor is my research ethic. Bear with me.

Reviews, as always, are deeply appreciated.

-Spike

Boundless

Chapter One: Where the Willow Wanders

The forest sees all.

It saw with myriad eyes the fall of Boromir, traitor turned hero in trivial time, even in the reckoning of mortals.

It saw the worship of Aragorn, future king of the stone realm of Gondor, as he vanquished the Uruk-Hai and knelt before his friend, bestowing upon the war-grimed forehead a kiss of loyal brotherhood. It felt the blood of the fallen lick the roots of its great trees and twisted them away in disgust, desiring water to cleanse the defilement of its hallowed soil.

It saw the gleam of battle in the eyes of those bound to the broken Fellowship, both crystal and steel at once. Its member's united resolve held tighter than the revered _mithril, _treasure of dwarves. It was a resolve bound with friendship and boundless faith, of nobility, of determination and grief. 

The very heart of the forest trembled for the sake of the dark ones who stood before them on their long journey to Mordor. 

Indeed, it trembled for the fate of Mordor itself.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Moon or sun; it does not matter to the eyes of an elf," Aragorn murmured softly to Gimli as they picked their way along the dark path , following the elf prince as he wove his way through the dark sentries of the trees that guarded their passing from the eyes of enemies. 

Gimli snorted, outwardly unimpressed, but in his stout dwarf heart he marveled at the gifts bestowed upon the Elven race. 

Legolas Greenleaf, fair heir to the revered throne of Mirkwood, stepped as lightly as ever, making no sound, his golden hair greedily seizing the moon's rays for its own. He sang soft, imploring songs to the trees as he went, and in turn listened to theirs and allowed them to be his navigator. As he walked, the soft touch of a new branch caressed his alabaster skin, and he turned to the old willow to whom it belonged and smiled, for the branch had not extended out upon the path before he passed.

The tree wanted to touch him, to speak to him.

"What's he doing?" implored Gimli, halting next to Aragorn as they watched the elf, bathed in moonlight that seemed to touch only him, halt and place his long hand upon an old tree. He brought his fair face close to the rough bark and appeared to be listening and whispering in turn.

" He speaks to the trees, and likewise," murmured Aragorn. "All wood elves have this extraordinary gift."

" Why is he speaking to the tree?" the dwarf asked, forgetting in his wonder to appear unimpressed.

" I do not know. He hears their songs and they lead him through the forest when other means fail him. Some bring tidings and warnings. Let us hope that no ill bodes us."

Legolas returned to them presently.

"We will camp here tonight," he said softly. " Orcs passed here but three hours since our coming, bearing much pain to the forest. Their blades have opened wounds upon the life here- they must not be concerned with being followed. I am told that they have camped on the outer edge of the forest, at least a mile from where we will tarry for the night. If we go much further we will be too close."

" Can we not ambush them and free Merry and Pippin?" Aragorn asked.

Legolas shook his head. " Alas, it is not the assembly that have seized the _periannath*_," he said, "but another band of Uruk-Hai- a large one, much too large for us. I am told that they were separated from the main band before the battle at the shore began, and now they wander seeking what they were commanded to find and return to Mordor. We must not encounter them, for it would be no benefit to us, whether or not we were successful in destroying them."

" Any orc killed is a success," grumbled Gimli, touching the handle of his axe with vengeful fingers. Legolas smiled down at him.

" I agree with you, son of Gloin, but we must heed friendly warnings. To go against them would be a folly we can ill afford."

" Legolas is right," Aragorn said, looking about him and noticing for the first time that they were in a small, concealed clearing, densely wooded on all sides. Underfoot a soft, springy carpet of leaves blanketed the earth, and at once he felt sleep pulling him down to rest there. He stifled a yawn. " Let us rest here tonight."

Immediately Gimli flopped himself upon the earth and fell asleep, ruling himself out of first watch. Legolas smiled again and seated himself at the edge of the clearing.

" You are tired, Aragorn. Let me take the watch. I will wake you when I tire."

" Very well, my friend. I thank you, and the forest to allow us such comfort and safety."

" Goodnight, _aran**_," murmured Legolas. "May you find peace in your dreams."

Aragorn fell asleep, lulled by the elf's soft night-songs and his memories of times more unburdened. As he slept he dreamed of Gondor.

~*~*~*~*~*~

* Halflings (_Sindarin)_

** King (_Sindarin)_


	2. Onwards

****

Author's note: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, they keep me writing (and keep me halfway sane). Prepare for some violence in the coming chapters.

Chapter Two: Onward

__

A Olórin i yáresse

Mentaner i Númeherui

Tíren i Rómenóri

Maiaron i Oiosaila

Manan elye etevanne

Nórie i melanelye?

Mithrandir, Mithrandir, A Randir Vithren

Ú-reniathach i amar galen

I reniad lín ne mór, nuithannen

In gwidh ristennin, i fae narchannen

I lach Anor ed ardhon gwannen

Caled veleg, ethuiannen.

"A Lament for Gandalf..." __

" What does it say?"

" I dare not tell... for me the grief is yet too near..."

Mithrandir, Mithrandir...

When Aragorn awoke he found his rough cheeks wet with tears, his lips forming the word, and in his head the memories of the night in Lothlórien gave birth to a new flood of grief for Gandalf, ever so much stronger in sleep than in the waking hours, where purpose staved off sadness. In the brief time between sleep and wakefulness, he blearily wondered if they would ever see him again, or if the horrid sight at Khazad-dúm had truly been the final moments of the great wizard. A fresh tear escaped him, and he became aware of the world again.

It was nearly dawn, and birds were beginning to stir in the boughs above him. He sat up, rubbing the tears from his face and the sleep from his eyes, and ran a hand through his dark hair, looking round the clearing and wondering why he had been left to sleep for so long.

Beside him Gimli still snored, no doubt wandering the long halls of Moria in his dreams, for only in the dwarf's dreams could he hear the voices of his people there again. A pang of sadness swept Aragorn on Gimli's behalf. So much loss...

Legolas sat with his back to a great oak, his hands resting on his bow- a gift from Galadriel in the havens of Lothlórien, where it seemed evil could not find foothold. He was watching Aragorn silently and smiled when his gaze was met.

" You didn't wake me sooner?"

Legolas shook his head, a serene look upon his face. " Nay, I needed you not. The council of the forest brings more comfort and benefit than sleep."

" Shall we wake Gimli and eat, then?"

" Wake Gimli, and eat if you must, but make no fire in these woods."

Aragorn needed no explanation. He nodded and rose to his feet, wincing as his joints popped loudly in the still morning air. " Have you heard anything more of the orcs?"

" They have traveled again, out of the forest and into the great plains beyond. We must move soon, for they will meet with the others soon, I am sure of it. In the open plains their scent roams freely, and it is the only path East that leads to Moria. They will unite soon, if they have not done so yet."

" We will have to be very careful in the plains, then," Gimli spoke up, hearing the conversation and injured that he had not been a part of it. " Though it may be difficult going if some of us continue to hold counsel without all ears present."

Aragorn furrowed his brow. " Gimli, you were asleep..."

" I was no such thing!" the dwarf argued, rising to his feet and going to them, too defensive, his hand too close to the hilt of his great axe. 

" Friend Gimli," Legolas stepped in, hands up in pacification, "we meant to harm to you by 'holding counsel', as you say. We have no secrets betwixt us. I must admit, I am slightly confused by your reaction, but I shall not argue the matter with you. Please stay your hand, son of Gloin."

Grumbling, the dwarf moved to the baggage by there he had slept, and began removing food from the parcels stored there, including flint, tinder, and a pan to fry the salted raw meat that he had brought from his homeland.

Legolas was the first to take note of this, and he shook his head at Gimli. 

" No, Gimli- we must not make a fire. We discussed this matter already. It is not safe."

" You discussed it without me."

" And yet you claim to have been awake, and heard every bit," Aragorn pointed out, trying to keep the puzzled anger from his voice. " Why do you stand against us so, Gimli?"

The dwarf's hands suddenly fell to his sides, and he looked up, weary and helpless. " I...I do not know," he whispered. " It seems, ever since we hove onto these shores and into this forest, a dark thing has been brooding at the back of my mind. It has made me angry and suspicious when I know I have no right to be." He sighed heavily, and sat upon the ground, placing the cooking tools back into their bags. " Please forgive me, friend Legolas, and friend Aragorn. I meant not what I said..." His eyes dimmed with perhaps the hint of tears, and his shoulders hunched as though he bore a great burden. The others shifted uncomfortably.

"Of course you didn't, sir dwarf," Aragorn suddenly said briskly, attempting to spare Gimli as much embarrassment and shame as possible. " Now then, I say we take sustenance as we walk, and set out this very minute, while the sun is warm on our backs and the birds sings to us in the trees." 

Both were in agreement, and soon they were on their way, the darkness gone from Gimli's face and words. As they traveled he sang an old mining song in a strong gruff voice, more relieved and happier than he had been in a long time. 

__

Truly, he thought, _there must be no companions more loyal, to forgive me of my actions this day._

So he sang, and his heart gladdened.

__

O'er hill and dale and fields pale

The ground is soft; Our hammers fail

To serve us any proper use

But when the mountains loom ahead

We rest there, take our daily bread,

And then set our hammers loose!

Down deep, and deeper, and deeper still

With hammer and pick as strong as will

We shake great mountains loose!

Legolas smiled at the song's rough charm, and they embarked upon the days journey with an extra spring in their step, telling stories of older and less burdened times, laughing and pausing sadly at intervals, each strengthened by the bond of friendship they held amongst them. New hope blossomed where there had once been none.

Behind them, a shadow bared its feral teeth in the fury of defeat.


	3. Blood Upon the Leaves

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Author's Note (PLEASE READ): Thank you for the wonderful reviews; keep 'em coming and let me know how you like this so far. 

On a side note, I got a new fish today. Just thought I'd mention that for some reason (perhaps because he's looking at me as we speak). He's cute. I think I will name him Orlando. 

Oh, and before I forget: if anyone reading this has purchased/played the LotR role-playing game (derivative of Warhammer, with all the models and such) let me know. I have kept a journal of comments during our games, and it's been tested to be outright hilarious. I am considering posting it, updated with every game, here on ff.net but if no one's played it then it's probably irrelevant, no matter how funny. Anyway, let me know.

-Spike

Chapter Three: Blood Upon the Leaves

The company of three traveled the rest of the day in relative silence, trying to forget the events of that morning. While reconciled, the argument could not be ignored. 

Legolas had spent much of the day struggling to understand the odd feeling that had come over him; one of darkness and anger, but not his own. It was as though all the most horrid emotions a living thing could feel had materialised themselves into a vaporous being, and was now trying to invade its hosts. Looking round at his companions, the Elf noticed a definite strain on the features of them both. He heaved a helpless sigh and continued on his way, halting when the sun had sunk below the mountains to the East.

" We should make camp ere nightfall," he whispered back, not daring to raise his voice lest it arouse some horrid night-thing looking to do them ill. " We shall not be able to go further once darkness takes the wood."

Gimli, tired from his trek, was in immediate agreement, and flung down his gear where he stood, looking to Aragorn, who remained paused in thought beneath the darkened canopy of the trees.

" Are you sure we can't go on?" he asked. " The orcs travel tirelessly- the more often we stop the further we are separated from Merry and Pippin."

" Yet we cannot travel in this darkness," Legolas countered, shaking his head. " Alas, would it that we could, yet there is no moon out tonight to light our way."

It appeared the Elf was correct: from as much of the indigo sky that Aragorn could see, it was only the faint light of the stars that shone down upon the forest as the last of the sun's light swooned below the Earth. Agitated, he threw down his gear and paced the forest floor, muttering to himself. Legolas moved away from him, concerned but unable to think of any pacification he could offer.

"I...I am sorry, Aragorn," he faltered at last. " If there were any possible way..."

" I know," sighed the Ranger, but said no more. Legolas volunteered the first watch, expressing his wishes that Aragorn try to rest his troubled spirit. Aragorn eventually relented, and he and Gimli were asleep within the space of an hour. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

During the night, Aragorn had many dreams.

He dreamed again of Mithrandir, and the horrible pit at Zhazad-dûm. In his dream he saw himself, instead of holding Frodo, race to the end of the bridge where Gandalf hung grimly. He saw his own hands reaching out and grabbing those of Mithrandir, and pulling as hard as he could, his feet sliding on the shale. He saw the glitter of something on Gandalf's blue eyes; a resignation to fate, perhaps. The look frightened him and he watched himself strain with all his might to pull the wizard to safety.

He saw his fingers slip suddenly from the old man's grasp, and saw for the second time Gandalf the Grey plummet into the darkness where the Balrog lay in wait.

He heard Galadriel, Lady of the Wood, looking sadly at the Fellowship minus one.

He has fallen into shadow... 

He was seized from that vision and placed at Boromir's side, comforting his dying friend, forced to see it all again, and Galadriel's voice faded into nothing, from the depths of which a voice could be heard laughing in a low voice, mocking and cruel.

Laughing at _him._

In his dream Aragorn clutched his temples and cried out aloud, and round he and Boromir a great wind stirred up the leaves until they blocked all from his vision save for the face of his dying comrade. The gusts began to shake him to and fro, and soon the motion was so violent that he was jerked form his dreams and into the cold blankness of the forest night.

Legolas was shaking him awake, urgently, his voice soft but desperate in the still air. Beside him, Gimli was stirring.

" Wake up, wake up," Legolas hissed. " Orcs, orcs are near, and they know of our presence!"

"Orcs!" Aragorn whispered, leaping up and kicking Gimli fully awake. The dwarf grabbed his axe and was up in a flash beside them, just as the first orc arrows pierced the foliage that surrounded them.

Moments later the orcs themselves materialised out of the darkness, bearing torches that dripped sparks to the dry leaves of the forest floor. 

Aragorn's sword whistled keenly above the yelling of Sauron's spawn, goring one orc and swiftly beheading another who stood too near. Gimli swung his axe and howled in victory as he cleaved two of them in one blow. Above the noise Legolas' bow sang an Elven song of vengeance, and his arrows flew straight and true.

Through the red mists of battle that clouded his vision, Aragorn saw the Elf standing not ten feet from him, surrounded by orcs. Soon Legolas gave up on his bow and unsheathed his white daggers, and they flashed keenly in the dirty light of the torches, shining like spirit-lamps. Not far from him battled Gimli, who had formed a circle of safety round himself as he swung his axe in all directions, sending orcs flying. 

Aragorn gasped as an orc lance bit into the flesh of his calf, and he quickly brought the weapon down, driving into the top of the creature's head and into its brain. Quickly he yanked the weapon free and whirled upon the tide of orcs that had come anew in his direction, scenting his blood and hoping to gain advantage over the weakness there. 

That was not to be the case: Legolas took up his bow again and cut as many down as he could, Gimli stepping in to cover his back, and Aragorn dispatching the few who broke through the Fellowship's defence. 

Smoke began to rise in the clearing where leaves smouldered beneath dropped torches. Legolas began to lose sight of the battle around him, his eyes stinging and squinting though he tried to keep them open. 

An orc that flanked him saw this weakness immediately, and took advantage, slipping its rapier between the Elf's ribs. Seconds later it was annihilated by a mighty swing of Gimli's axe, and the tide of battle turned in the Fellowship's favour.

Eventually the number of surviving orcs grew so little that the remaining creatures fled into the wood, terrified of the warrior's burning gazes. Aragorn quickly stamped out the smouldering leaves, waving the smoke away as best he could, and waited for Legolas' arrows to find their mark in the backs of the retreating orcs. After a moment he realised that no attempt on the creature's lives had been made.

" Legolas?..." he started, turning round. There he saw Legolas, lying heavily against a tree, Gimli at his side.


	4. Falling into Shadow

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Author's Note: Thank you all for your wondrous reviews!! You're all so kind. Oh, and Orlando the fish appreciates the greetings. ;-) As of tonight, I have seen LotR four times. Such is the benefit of knowing people who work at the cinema; all the food and drink and movies one can stomach, for the low low price of...free!

Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. I'll make up for it, I promise. That is, if you don't hate me by the time it's over.

-Spike

Chapter Four: Falling into Shadow

"Legolas?" Aragorn murmured, afraid to come closer, afraid to face again what he had faced with Boromir. He faltered, his leg giving him pain, a sensation that was all but lost in the darkness that had swirled up to seize the Ranger's heart in its frigid grip. Around him the bodies of orcs lay like dead leaves where they had fallen, their weapons glinting and blood-grimed, broken and useless. The forest shuddered at the touch of their foul corpses upon its earth, but Aragorn felt nor saw any of this, his gaze fixed ahead, his nerveless fingers dropping his sword to the ground.

Gimli's head was bowed upon the shoulder of his fallen comrade, and could be heard weeping over the crackling of the stray torches that still burned. Aragorn took a breath and drew up his last reserves of strength, clenching his teeth so hard it hurt, and he forced himself to look upon Legolas' face.

The Elf's expression was one of pain and sadness as he gazed down at the grieving dwarf, who had lain his axe beside him and held the bow of Lothlórien in his hands. Legolas raised his shining eyes presently to meet those of Aragorn, who found them strangely serene, at peace in this welter of blood and filth. At length he heaved a rattling sigh.

" The orcs somehow scented us, and came up from behind in the night. I...I do not know why I discovered them so late; indeed, how they found us at all. They were upon us before I had allowed us a proper chance, and I fear they, though dead, have accomplished their mission to delay us fatally. I have failed us, Aragorn."

" Curse this traitorous forest!" howled Gimli, shaking his bloody fist at the tall guardians that surrounded them, old as time, ever watching in silence. He took up his axe, but dropped it again in resignation as Legolas' battle-grimed hand found his shoulder. He wept helplessly, as he had in Balin's tomb, but there was a note in his sorrow that spoke of something closer.

" Do not take up your axe in anger, son of Gloin," the Elf murmured softy, his breath leaving him. " Only in the name of honour must you place your judgement. Blame not the forest; it too was deceived. Come to me, Aragorn," he said suddenly, looking up from where the dwarf had slumped again at his side.

Aragorn did so as though in a trance, finding his way unseeing across the ground, his eyes blurred with grief. He knelt down beside his friend and the Elf raised his hand to find Aragorn's cheek, stroking away the blood from a cut there. The hand felt warm and strong, but the strength was fading fast, and the rattle of death was in his chest.

" Son of Arathorn, fight bravely and proudly, and lead our companions, whither you shall meet, safely to their fate. I would have liked to walk beside you on that path."

" Legolas-"

" Hush, Aragorn. Take my hand; Gimli the other; face me toward the east, if you will." His companions obeyed, and Legolas' face contorted in pain as he was shifted gently to face Eastward. 

Aragorn's tears spilled forth as Legolas sighed in peaceful resignation. "What do you ask of us, friend Elf?" he whispered, his voice breaking. He steadied himself. _Must be strong, must be strong as I was with Boromir..._

" Hold fast to my hands, my dearest friends," the Elf whispered, " and tarry here with me awhile, till I may see the sun rise, and embark upon my last journey."

And so the three friends remained there in the woodland as the fires went out and dawn spread her rosy fingers to probe the land, touching all but the grieving travellers, and Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood, closed his sea-grey eyes and shadow took him hither to his fate. Don't worry, people- there's more to come! Don't despair quite yet! ****

Oh dammit...I think I just gave the next chapter away. 


	5. A Gift

Author's Note: Eeek! I am hated by some! I am afraid some people didn't read the note at the end of the last chapter, but it's okay. Another short chapter, but I don't think you'll mind much.  
  
Thank you all ever so much for the fantastic reviews. Keep 'em coming!  
  
Oh yes: Orlando the fish is greatly pleased with all the attention he's getting from you people. ;-)  
  
-Spike  
  
   
  
Chapter Five: A Gift  
  
   
  
Aragorn and Gimli woke as the sun was sinking low in the West, and both were instantly confused. How had they fallen asleep, and when?  
  
   
  
" Aragorn," Gimli muttered from where he lay on the leaves a few meters off.  
  
   
  
" Yes, Gimli?"  
  
   
  
" Did you fall asleep as well?"  
  
   
  
" Yes, my friend," Aragorn replied, touching the tear stains on his face and grimacing at the tightness of his muscles. He was exhausted from grief, and doubted not that he friend felt much the same.  
  
   
  
" I don't remember doing so..."  
  
" Nor do I, friend," Aragorn said, shaking his head and remembering the sadness that sunrise had brought them. He looked almost fearfully to the tree where Legolas had lain, and his eyes suddenly widened and his hand flew to his mouth in shock.  
  
   
  
Legolas was not there.  
  
   
  
Gimli saw the shocked expression upon the Ranger's face, and looked to the tree. The dwarf gave a cry of shock and lurched to his feet, looking all round the clearing, searching for his lost friend.  
  
   
  
Aragorn feared an animal had come in the night, and a lump rose in his throat with disgust and sorrow at the thought of what it wanted. He too inspected the area, but to his relief he found no signs of dragging, nor footprints or disturbance of any kind.  
  
   
  
" What say you of this mystery, Gimli?" he inquired softly. The dwarf's eyes were still fixed on the sight, dimmed with stale raw grief.  
  
   
  
" I say this traitorous forest claimed him for its own," he hissed. " It would deny us even a proper burial..."  
  
   
  
Aragorn doubted these words, but he had not the heart to contest Gimli during a time of such grief and sadness. He moved forward and laid a hand on Gimli's shoulder, and smiled wearily down at him.  
  
   
  
" We must travel on, son of Gloin," he said, "no matter how our hearts ache us. There are still two lives yet to save, and while they still live, so does hope."  
  
   
  
Gimli nodded silently, reluctantly stepping away from the hallowed tree and picking up the gear they needed. He paused for a moment before shouldering the pack, his eyes closed, murmuring something in the Dwarfish tongue. A prayer.  
  
   
  
Aragorn did the same, quietly and to himself, and when both were through they hefted their supplies and walked side by side on the path that would lead them out of the forest which held for them such grief.  
  
   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
   
  
"Hush now, he wakes not, he wakes not... Time he must have to rest before life claims him again... My touches, soft as sunlight, wake him not, but voices may be another matter, my Lord..."  
  
   
  
"Found you the others?"  
  
   
  
"Fast to dreams Renália sent them, my Lord. And fast to dreams they held...In your Light we bathed them; may their hearts be less tempestuous..."  
  
   
  
" They waken presently, then, and shall travel..."  
  
   
  
"Delay them Oenú will, fast to this forest will they be bound to your discretion, ere our Prince returns to us, my Lord..."  
  
   
  
" Hope still lies within all hearts involved. Perhaps our reconciliation will not be beheld too late. Has the Faire One made his choice?"  
  
   
  
"He has accepted your Gift...Return he shall to us presently, my Lord..."  
  
   
  
"... And so then he shall to them..." 


	6. The light of Eärendil

Author's Note: Sorry for them formatting lately- I don't know what's up with my computer. So if everything is crap, it's not my fault. I've tried and tried to get it right.  
  
   
  
Chapter Six: The Light of Eärendil  
  
The day wore on as Gimli and Aragorn, last of the tattered Fellowship of the Ring, trudged through the forest, their hearts heavy and their bodies sore from much travel and sorrow. It seemed odd to Aragorn how long it was taking to reach the edge of the wood, and after three hours of walking he glanced at Gimli, but if the dwarf was hindered by the same doubts he did not show it.  
  
Presently they grew weary, as though an invisible cloak of sodden burlap had been thrown over the both of them, and their limbs sagged and their hearts grew distant. Strange whispers swirled in the dark spaces of the forest, in the shadows where no eye could pierce, not even that of the sun, risen high in the eastern sky. Erelong Gimli gave a shudder, and dropped his pack to the ground.  
  
"This wood feels strange," he said gruffly, his hand straying lazily to his axe, as though he had not the power to wield it. " Do you feel it, Aragorn?"  
  
"I feel something," the Ranger murmured. " A heaviness about the air."  
  
" Aye, and I do not like it. I say we hurry out of this quickly."  
  
" Something tells me we are watched, and that we will not leave this until whatever it is that hunts us wishes it to be so." Aragorn's hand strayed too to his own weapon, and he sat upon the leaves, breathless.  
  
"Are you daft, Ranger?" Gimli demanded nervously. "Why have you stopped moving?"  
  
" Look," Aragorn breathed, beckoning round him. Gimli looked, and then he too sat hard upon the ground.  
  
A great darkness, like a living shadow, was materialising over the woods on all sides, closing in on the two travellers. A great hissing rose amongst the leaves, and within the darkness a myriad of eyes suddenly lit up, as red as blood. Aragorn could hear their shuffling in the dead stillness that had overtaken the forest, and a great fear rose in his heart. He clasped Gimli's shoulder and felt his own grabbed, and he gritted his teeth, awaiting his doom.  
  
The shadows had nearly claimed the last of the nine friends, and far away, from the very bowels of Mount Doom of Mordor, a great voice rose in triumphant laughter.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The darkness had nearly reached them when Aragorn and Gimli were blinded by the brightest light they had ever witnessed; a thousand times greater than the dirty sun of midday. Both companions threw up their hands to shield their eyes as it engulfed them, and they could hear the agonised shrieks of the creatures that had hunted them in shadow. The noise grew until Aragorn thought he could bear it no more, and suddenly all was still and calm again, and a great silence swept the wood.  
  
He chanced to open his eyes, and what he saw stole his breath.  
  
Before he and Gimli stood a creature bathed in a light as pure as crystal, and the shape of its body was Elven, but no real face could be distinguished, masked by the sweet light which seemed to radiate from within it. It stood before the two benevolently, and for the first time in so very long, Aragorn felt a peace creep into his heart and chase away the darkness that had unfurled its tendrils there.  
  
" Who are you?" he chanced to ask.  
  
The creature answered in a voice more felt than heard, impossibly soft and gentle, yet wiser than all the things that had ever dwelled upon the earth, both great and small.  
  
" Welcome, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Gimli, son of Gloin. I bid you to no longer fear the darkness; it cannot touch you now. I am Oenú, servant of Eärendil." 


	7. The Temple of Eärendil

Author's Note: Sorry again for any formatting fuckups. I did my best...Oh, and Orlando the fish says hello to all who bid him the same....  
  
-Spike  
  
   
  
Chapter Seven: The Temple of Eärendil  
  
Aragorn and Gimli stood rapt as the creature spoke to them. Neither could tear their eyes away, for although Oenú was bathed in such a light- indeed, it was as though he were created from it- the brightness did not assail their eyes as it had done when the darkness had been warded off.  
  
"There is much danger here; many things stalk you in the shadows of the wood. I will guide you now to where you may be safe, and heal the pain in your hearts."  
  
Gimli, ever bold, shook his helmeted head sadly. " Begging forgiveness, good sir, but I must doubt your words. Our hearts are hewed deeply with grief from a loss that shall never be replaced."  
  
The light around Oenú shimmered for a moment, and it seemed to Aragorn, though he could not see a face, that the light-creature was smiling.  
  
"Come," he said, and wordlessly, knowing naught else to do, they followed him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The light obscured all around them, protection no doubt from that which still hunted them. Oenú led them for what seemed like days, the time passing as slowly winter thaw, until at last the creature stopped, and turned to them. Before Aragorn and Gimli there stood a ring of light amidst the sullen trees. Oenú seemed to be smiling again as he reached out a long arm and thrust the portal inward in a burst of starlight, and suddenly they were drawn into a place as bright as Eärendil himself.  
  
When at last their eyes had cleared and the light seemed to dim, Gimli and Aragorn could see that they were standing in a white room, surrounded by figures of the same nature as Oenú; indeed, he had moved amongst them and could not be distinguished from the others. One moved forward and extended its hand in greeting.  
  
"Our sincerest welcome, Aragorn and Gimli. I am Renália, a light-being of Middle Earth and servant to Lord Eärendil, as are we all."  
  
" Why have you brought us here?" Aragorn whispered, confused.  
  
Renália laughed, a shimmering laugh beset with the jewels of the stars. " We mean you no harm, son of Arathorn. We were called upon by our Lord at the request of the Lady Galadriel, who sensed your distress and bid us come to your aid. Our Lord knows well of your quest; indeed, he has known of it long before you were born. But the events that befell you two days prior were not foreseen, and the darkness in the forest deceived you, and indeed the very wood itself, and we regret that we could not catch it before it was upon you. For the evil that lies in Mordor sent forth an enemy that travels by shadow; indeed, only one of the many evils that the Dark One has birthed from that foul place."  
  
" How did Sau-"  
  
" Hush," Renália silenced Gimli gently, raising a long and shimmering hand. "You must not speak that name here. We shall not summon even echoes of what lies in the dark land, simply words though they are."  
  
" You speak of aiding us, and of the deception we suffered," said Aragorn. "This I understand, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart of hearts, but I must admit...I am confused as to why you brought us here, and why the deception of the forest and ourselves plays such a part in your quest to bring us aid."  
  
" You are wise and stout of heart, and very shrewd to seek such knowledge," replied Renália. "May these qualities serve you well for the rest of your days. Now come," the creature beckoned, turning from them and leading them further into the light. "I shall give unto you the Gift that our Lord Eärendil hath bestowed upon you."  
  
Aragorn and Gimli followed as though in a daze, and they were taken to a small outcropping that led into another small room; herein all furnishings were ornately carved in the likeness of all beasts beauteous and fair, yet all was as white as starlight, and in the middle of this room, the shade of freshly-fallen snow, there was a great bed, its four posts carved into trumpeting swans. Its bedclothes were of silk and satin and velvet and all the wondrous fabrics beneath and amidst the stars, and a glimmering shroud of some light fabric draped over it. At its head there was a window that had no glass nor shutters, but the room was not chill, and outside there could be seen only the night sky, the starts brighter and more brilliant than could ever be seen all across the lands of Middle Earth. It was then that Aragorn realised where the portal had taken them:  
  
They were in the Palace of the Twilight Sky; the temple of Eärendil.  
  
The light-beings moved before them, and encircled the room, their separate brilliance becoming one in these close corners, and they appeared as a ring of light, pure and soft, encircling the two weary travellers and holding them safe and soothed, away from the terrors and filth of the bloody wood. Renália stood before them, next to the bed, and he smiled again and bid them draw closer. Aragorn and Gimli walked side by side and stood flanking the light-being, and watched in wonder as a shimmering hand drew back the shroud that covered the bed.  
  
"Behold," Renália said softly, "The Gift of our Lord. We give unto you what the darkness had taken away."  
  
And indeed it was true.  
  
Gimli dropped to his knees weeping as he beheld the sight before him, and Aragorn clutched at his friend's shoulder, his lips moving but unable to make a sound. After much effort he finally was able to whisper, and as his lips formed the word tears ran unbidden down his cheeks, catching the brilliance of the light-beings and shining like the stars outside the window.  
  
"Legolas..." 


	8. Namarië

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews; much appreciated, both for the praise and the constructive criticism. Forgive me if I don't follow it, however; I have plied my trade for far too long and had too much success to change it now; with fiction I master my victim's fate....(evil laugh). Um...oh yes: Orlando is happy and has grown fat with your attentions. His ego is nearing the size of mine, and his head is tiny. I fear I may need a bigger tank soon.... Anyway, keep those reviews coming, please. They are the petrol that keeps my literary motor running.  
  
-Spike  
  
Chapter Eight: Namarië  
  
   
  
" Hush, he sleeps," said Renália softly. "His wound is still grievous, and he must heal and rest. But he has accepted the Gift that Lord Eärendil offered him, hearing the prayers of Galadriel. He will walk beside you again."  
  
" And how can we thank your Lord?" asked Gimli, bowing deeply. " For I had lost a true and precious friend, and He has given him back to me. Surely His Gift was for more than just the Elf."  
  
" You hold many fates upon your hands," replied Renália, "as does the bearer of the Ring. To honour your quest in any way possible is our pleasure in doing, and the pleasure of our Lord as well. He needs no thanks, for seeing you out on your journey again is all the gratification He seeks. The Gift was bestowed upon the Elven prince, but the ties of your friendship have extended it to be a Gift for both of you as well. That was your doing, and you have endured the trials of friendship, and that brings a great light of hope to your quest. "  
  
" Nonetheless, we are grateful, Renália; both to Eärendil and to you," said Aragorn. He looked at the bed, where Legolas, pale as milk, rested. The Elf was clean and as radiant as he had been at the council of Rivendell before the long and tiring journey, and he looked as though he belonged in the purity of the Temple, purity melded with purity as one. " Tell me, when will he be able to travel with us again?"  
  
" Soon," answered Renália, " but he must needs be careful on the journey. Life has been given back to his body, but we cannot fully heal his wound."  
  
" I understand," said Aragorn, " and we shall help him as much as he needs. I only pray that we're not too late in finding our lost friends..."  
  
At this Renália seemed to smile again, his radiance brilliant even in the light of the Temple. " Fate has ways of reconciling for many things lost, including time, my friend. Do not lose hope; not while you three still stand as friends and companions. Having that, no true ill may bode you on your journey."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Legolas awoke hours, perhaps days later, to Aragorn's reckoning. In the Temple it was eternally twilight; the stars shone out like minute pinpricks across the great indigo canvas of the heavens. He and Gimli has taken food and rest, and were allowed to bathe the grime of travel and battle from their bodies in the steaming, crystalline pools of the temple. Aragorn's wound was treated by a light-being called Uónie, who applied a shimmering gel to the wound which fizzed and then turned to liquid and ran down Aragorn's leg, leaving behind it barely a trace of the wound.  
  
Aragorn's brow furrowed in surprise when he beheld this marvel. "This treatment...it leaves naught but a shadow of the wound. Could you not use it to heal the Elf?"  
  
"We have tried," Uónie replied softly, wiping the remnants of the treatment with a soft white cloth. "And some damage was restored. But his wound was deep, and poisoned with the living evil of the Dark One. We are lucky yours was not; the blade that struck you was clean in a sense- merely a steel weapon to all purpose, and untainted with the tangible evil, as most orc blades are. The treatment would have been little use to you had your luck been lesser."  
  
Aragorn understood, but his heart burned with a white-hot fury for Sauron and the orcs, and soon forgot his tending, and became lost in his thoughts.  
  
At present he was roused when Uónie's soft voice broke through his darkness, soothing it somehow; calming the turgid rapids that had become his emotions.  
  
"You shake with anger, son of Arathorn- it burns in your eyes. Such darkness will only be a bane to you and your quest. I advise you to seek council with Renália before you leave this place. He will soothe your mind and put your heart at ease, for I must tell you now: he is the servant of our Lord, to be sure, but he is also the highest of our order apart from the Lord Himself, and speaks unto Him directly. Renália glows with the same light as Eärendil, for it was our Lord Himself that bestowed it upon him, seeing him as a son, and making him our leader." The healer straightened and tucked the phial of the remedy into the long, wide sleeves of his robe. "Go to him, and let your mind and soul be replenished in this place of sanctuary."  
  
" I will take council," promised Aragorn, and stood, bowing deeply. "Thank you, Uónie, for your help."  
  
" Aye,", the healer nodded. "Now I too must go, and see to your Elven friend. The Dwarf has rarely left his side since Oenú brought you both unto him. Perhaps you can persuade him to take sustenance in our Great Hall."  
  
" I shall," said Aragorn, and departed on his errands, walking without pain for the first time in what seemed like many days- in both his leg and his heart.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Both Aragorn and Gimli were at Legolas' side when the Elf awoke. Earlier the Ranger had convinced his friend to take sustenance, and with some reluctance Gimli had left the room and travelled with his friend to the Great Hall, where food was set before them on platters of crystal.  
  
  
  
The meal, to Gimli's initial disappointment, contained the flesh from no living beast, but the Dwarf assumed that the light-beings were loathe to end any creature's existence for the sake of palate and said nothing, though his heart ached for Dwarven food.  
  
There were light, crisp cakes, much like the waybread, lembas, of the Elves, but sweet and somehow smooth in texture. Mushrooms had been gathered for their arrival, and had been cooked in a light white sauce with crisp watercress and garlic, and set atop a bed of woodland vegetables, some of which Aragorn could not identity. There was bread, white and soft and buttery, though there was no dressing upon it. From crystal goblets they drank a clear liquid swirled with a golden colour; it was sweet and tasted very much the spring honeysuckle, and was very good.  
  
They did the sumptuous affair much justice, and when they were finished they went back to the room where Legolas lay, and sat beside him watchfully. Aragorn was not sure how long they had lingered ere Legolas' lips parted in a deep, life-giving breath, and his eyes slowly opened.  
  
Gimli stirred beside Aragorn, and the Dwarf's eyes shone bright with tears, which he made no effort to conceal. Legolas watched them for a moment, finding his bearings, and then he languidly smiled.  
  
" Hello, my friends," he said in a soft voice.  
  
Gimli leaned forward and took the Elf's long and slender hand, holding it firmly as though he feared his friend would leave again. " I have long waited to hear your voice, friend Elf. For what has seemed like ages I thought I would never again hear it."  
  
" I shall not leave you again, Gimli, this I promise. Perhaps you will soon tire of my voice."  
  
Gimli grinned broadly, and patted the hand. Legolas turned his gaze upon Aragorn, and something in his eyes stirred.  
  
  
  
" Aragorn..." he said softly.  
  
The Ranger hardly noticed Renália come to Gimli's side and whisper something in his ear; the Dwarf nodded, understanding in his eyes, and departed with him from the room, leaving the Elf and the Man to themselves.  
  
" My dear Legolas," Aragorn returned, unable to speak in more than a whisper. A tear dropped from his shining eyes and the Elf reached out weakly and took his battle-scarred hand, covering it with both of his own.  
  
" I was glad to have you by my side in those last moments," Legolas murmured. "Had I not been given the chance to return I still would have had peace in my heart, for I had such wonderful friends beside me." He paused for a moment, and in a softer voice he whispered, " How dearly I have missed you, Ranger."  
  
Aragorn smiled. " Who knows when I would have felt peace in my heart again, Prince of Mirkwood, had you not returned to me."  
  
" It was fate for us to walk the paths together, Aragorn. For even death could not keep us apart for long."  
  
" And we shall walk those paths again, wherever they may lead us..."  
  
" Yes," the Elf closed his eyes briefly. " And we shall do so very soon...the bow of Galadriel calls to me, and I mean to answer. You must rest, Aragorn, for you are weary and so is Gimli. Tomorrow we will embark again in search of our lost friends. I pray the light of Eärendil will shine upon them as well, and bestow to them such fortune as has come to us."  
  
  
  
" I feel more hope for them now," said Aragorn, "since coming to this place. It has greatly soothed my heart."  
  
  
  
" And mine," agreed Legolas, "but even the Temple of Light could not bring more hope to me than seeing your face, holding your hand in mine..." Slowly he brought the hand to his lips, and kissed it. "Namarië..."  
  
" Namarië," Aragorn whispered back, and reluctantly left them both to rest. 


	9. The Last Councils

Author's Note: Another chapter at last. Enjoy, and don't forget to review, please. The less I get, the longer it takes for me to get the resolve to write more.  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine: The Last Councils  
  
Aragorn awoke in the room he shared with Gimli, refreshed and for once not aching from sleeping on the ground. The bed that cradled him as he slept was soft with many pillows, clothed in white satin and velvet, and very faintly scented of sandalwood. The Ranger lay back, in no hurry to rise and fight off the last soft shadows of sleep, for in the Temple he had no need to be quickly alert.  
  
Across the room Gimli stirred, and finally sat up a little ways, yawning cavernously and stretching his short limbs. He looked to Aragorn and smiled broadly through his beard.  
  
" Good morning, Ranger, if there is such a thing in this place; the stars shine on no matter the time of day. Ah...I feel as though years of toil have melted from me in the space of one night's rest. How fare you?"  
  
" Just as well, Gimli," Aragorn smiled. " Though I am slightly saddened, for it is today that we pass from here and continue on our journey."  
  
" So soon? Is Legolas ready?"  
  
" He said that today would be the day we depart. He longs to feel the bow of Galadriel in his hands again, and the ground beneath his feet."  
  
" As would I, had I such a fair and beauteous weapon," agreed the dwarf. "Though I daresay my axe suits me better than Elven bows, begging the Lady's pardon." He looked round as though Galadriel were listening. Aragorn laughed and reluctantly rose from the gentle warmth of his bed, tying up his boots.  
  
" I will return," he said, and Gimli nodded, wonder in his eyes.  
  
With that Aragorn set off to take his final counsel with Renália, leaving Gimli to revel in his comfort for a bit longer before he returned to the harshness of travel.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Aragorn did not know where Renália might be staying, at least, not in his mind. He had learned many things in the temple, and among them was the new- found trust he found in his heart to guide him in places where the eyes were of little use.  
  
He did this now, and found himself walking down a long corridor, lit with wall sconces cradling merry flames, which, oddly, did not give off any heat. On the walls were carved images wrought of ithildin, which shined eternal, as tiny windows criss-crossed the corridor to allow in the ever- present light of the stars. Each was a scene of some sort, Aragorn noticed, and recognised many of them as scenes from the history that had befallen Middle-Earth while the light of Eärendil looked down from above.  
  
Renália was there, suddenly visible a ways before him, but not at the end of the hall, for Aragorn could see no end of it in sight. The light-being walked toward him swiftly, and Aragorn watched with wonder as the ithildin designs gleamed several times brighter with his passing, and faded back to their normal hue when he had gone. The light-being approached hi and smiled.  
  
"You seek council with me, I understand," he said softly.  
  
Aragorn nodded. " I have been instructed by your healer, and I took his advice, for he seemed nearly as wise as you."  
  
" Indeed," answered Renália, "And I expect he told you of my speaking with the Lord Eärendil himself."  
  
" He did."  
  
" And were you at all surprised, Ranger?"  
  
"Not in particular," replied Aragorn, slightly puzzled.  
  
" Then would you be surprised to know Uónie himself speaks unto our Lord?" Renália said, smiling gently, or so it seemed. "He spoke unto Him whilst I sent you and Gimli fast to dreams while our work was done, and he healed the Elf. It was unto him that was told the call of the Lady Galadriel had been heard and answered. He and I took counsel with Eärendil the moment we heard it, while the Elf still lay dying in your arms. I expect he gave you much advice that you may not have recognised, and still may not, until the time for its need arises."  
  
" You have made many miracles here for us, Renália, and your company; more perhaps than I shall ever see again in a lifetime, and yet I would regret it not, for the memory of your kindness will never grow stale in my heart."  
  
" A segue," smiled Renália. "Yet you have but one more favour to ask of me."  
  
" Yes," said Aragorn. "If it is your will, of course; you have done more for us already than we have time in our lives to suitably thank you for."  
  
Renália held up a long hand in dismissal, and his kind gaze held no impatience or ill favour. He folded his arms inside his wide sleeves and waited for Aragorn to bid what he needed of him.  
  
" Uónie spoke to me of my anger today," Aragorn sighed. "And indeed he was correct; my rage for the Dark One and every one of his minions has grown into a blaze that I cannot control for long. The Healer told me to seek council with you to ease my heart, and I admit I need your help, for I know and was told that such black anger will but hinder my quest. I know how rage can make a man blind, Renália, and I cannot bear to lose my sight, not when I tread the path that I do."  
  
The light-being nodded slowly. "I see, and understand. Come, walk with me, son of Arathorn, and I will calm the fires in your heart."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Gimli had been brought his breakfast to eat in his bed, as though the light- beings were sympathetic about his return to the wilds. He accepted the hot, sweet cakes, flavoured with honey, graciously, and drank of the same golden- swirled liquid he had taken the meal before. The light-beings did not speak to him, but smiled gently, or so they appeared to be through their golden haze. They left him to enjoy his meal in peace, making no sound as they glided across the white floors.  
  
At length Gimli finished and laced up his boots, leaving the sanctuary and rest of his room reluctantly at first, but then he thought of seeing Legolas and his heart was glad to go.  
  
Oenú met him at the door, nearly startling the Dwarf, who took a step backward. The light-being smiled down at him, as light-beings seemed wont to do.  
  
"Good morn," he said. "I trust you had a restful sleep."  
  
" I did, and am grateful for it, as it was perhaps my last good rest for a very long time...perhaps forever."  
  
Oenú placed a cool hand upon his shoulder. " Do not trouble your mind with what fate may hold for you, son of Gloin. You are powerless to change the course of your fate, thought not so of your future, and thus must not trouble yourself with the higher concerns. Focus now on your journey, and, most of all....on your friends."  
  
" Greetings again, friend Gimli," came Legolas' soft voice just then, and Oenú stepped aside, smiling still, to allow the Dwarf to see his friend finally standing, whole again.  
  
Indeed Legolas stood, as proud and tall as ever, his face still pale but healthier still, wearing a long white robe with wide sleeves not unlike those of the Servants, and it shimmered beneath the lights of the temple. His hair was clean and combed and shining like hammered gold in the midsummer sun, his braids freshly done, now entwined with fine, intricate silver Elven chains that shone as brightly as the light-beings themselves, as did the pendant he wore upon a similar chain. It was wrought of some brilliant silver metal, in the shape of Eärendil's star. In the centre was stone as black and lustrous as the sable night, and set still in the centre of that was a stone as red as blood. Legolas was smiling gently down at Gimli, the same Legolas, youthful and vibrant, and yet more deeply centred and wiser than before, if indeed possible. To Gimli he seemed very much like Galadriel and Celeborn and even Renália; unearthly and regal in his shining beauty, ageless in body, immortal in wisdom. Gimli's heart, it seemed to the Dwarf, nearly sighed aloud in wonder when he beheld his dear friend so utterly changed and yet exactly the same.  
  
" You look rested, my friend," Legolas said gently, breaking the spell.  
  
" As do you," answered Gimli. " These beings have...they have indeed performed a miracle. And the pendant you wear... it is too fair for words..."  
  
The Elf smiled. " A gift to commemorate the greater Gift," he said. "Come, and I will show you something."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Legolas led Gimli through unfathomable corridors in the unaccounted time that followed; places that seemed to jump out right as they were passed, but were hidden from sight otherwise. Each corridor looked the same, with the intricate carvings shining gently upon the alabaster white of the halls, and upon the companion's faces as they walked side by side in comfortable silence. Yet somehow Legolas knew where he was going, and forgot not the way he came, although to Gimli it seemed that every step, though breathtakingly beautiful, was the same as the last.  
  
At last they reached a room that bore no door, and Legolas led the awe- struck Dwarf into it, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him, for the room had no walls but merely the shining white and silver of the floor on which they trod. Around them it was utterly silent and chill, and all that could be seen was the indigo expanse of the sky, the stars glimmering far away, and yet to Gimli they seemed nearly close enough to touch.  
  
In the centre of the room there was a pedestal of carved marble, in the shape of a great dragon whose talons bore a massive sphere of clear crystal, and in it was reflected the black bejewelled sky. A silver statue bearing the star of Eärendil was upon its top, and in the centre of this was a midnight stone, and it its centre a blood red stone. Gimli sighed aloud in wonder.  
  
" What is this for?"  
  
" Eärendil is the Elves' most beloved star," murmured Legolas. " It is though that sphere that Renália and his companions speak unto Him."  
  
" It is beautiful," Gimli breathed.  
  
" Aye, and very powerful."  
  
" I should like to look into it and speak to the Lord," the Dwarf said wistfully, " though I can fair imagine His majesty and beauty would be too great a sight for me to bear."  
  
"Nay," Legolas shook his head. " We have no need to seek the Crystal of Eärendil, friend Gimli. For He speaks unto us already."  
  
Gimli looked up to his friend. " Does He, Legolas? I have never heard Him..."  
  
" Perhaps," said the Elf, "you were listening with the wrong ears." He reached out and touched the Dwarf upon his tunic. "Here, son of Gloin, is where He speaks to you...within your heart."  
  
Gimli clasped his friends hand tightly. " Then He has been speaking much these past days, my dearest friend."  
  
Elf and Dwarf then smiled upon one another, and walked side by side from the crystal room, and to a fate they could only guess. 


	10. Setting Out

Author's Note: Ah, here we are, at the end. Thanks to all of your who reviewed, and I'm sorry for the wait on this last chapter (and for the briefness of it, but one mustn't drag things out); my computer had to be reformatted, etc., and needless to say I was delayed a week or so. Anyway, enjoy, and more reviews equal more chances for another LotR fic!  
  
  
  
-Spike  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Ten: Setting Out Again  
  
  
  
There was great sadness when it came time to go back to the forest that had held such nightmare for the travellers, but Renália and the others worried not for them, for they knew that when the three friends felt the sun upon their faces again, they would fondly remember the Temple which had bestowed upon them such gifts, and yet not mourn their passing from it with such heavy hearts.  
  
  
  
And indeed it was true, for when, arm in arm, the companions passed through the portal and into Middle Earth's warm sunshine the lines of sadness that traced their faces smoothed away, and determination and spirit once again shimmered deep within their wizened eyes. They stood together, amidst the day and the gently waving leaves of the wood, and the singing of the birds, feeling the earth and what it was to be alive again.  
  
  
  
When at last they turned back to the portal to bid their ethereal hosts farewell, they found that the wood was unchanged again, and the light- beings vanished.  
  
  
  
Legolas smiled slightly as Gimli heaved a great sign and Aragorn bowed his head. He placed his hands upon their shoulders and murmured, " They know of our gratitude, my friends; you need not regret that you could not express it in words. For the light of Eärendil shines bright within our hearts now, and they are one with it.  
  
  
  
" Your words are as warming as the sweet sun, Legolas," smiled Aragorn, straightening. " I agree with you."  
  
  
  
" As do I," said Gimli, hefting his axe. " Our stay in the Temple has strengthened our hands and our hearts. I feel as though I am ready to take on the Dark Lord himself."  
  
  
  
" We must not be too rash, friend Gimli," said Aragorn. " We must focus on our task of rescuing Merry and Pippin. It must be our only priority."  
  
  
  
" One of two priorities," interrupted Gimli, clasping his friends' hands. " The other being to ensure none of us are ever lost again."  
  
  
  
" Alas," sighed Legolas sadly. " I greatly mourn for those already lost, and for Merry and Pippin, who have had to endure the presence of the horrible Orcs these past days."  
  
  
  
" We will find them," assured Aragorn, "and when we do, all of Mordor will pay for what the orcs have done."  
  
  
  
" My heart thirsts for that day," said the Elf. "Come then, friends- let us go now and find our lost companions, wherever they may be."  
  
  
  
Gimli and Aragorn agreed, and side by side, hearts as resolute and strong as mountains, the three friends, the remainder of the Fellowship, embarked upon their chosen path, and never once looked back...  
  
  
  
...And from that night on, for as long as they travelled upon the earth, the light of Eärendil and all his servants shone ever brightly within them as well as upon them, and not even the deepest and darkest of nights could ever dim it.  
  
  
  
The end. 


End file.
